


It's Not About the Details

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Bad Sex, Bottom Kurt, Future Fic, M/M, Top Blaine, or at least imperfect sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine find themselves unexpectedly alone in the apartment. They jump on the chance to take advantage of it.</p><p>Bushwick loft futurefic, no spoilers past 4x22</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not About the Details

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes my brain pokes me and demands that I think about fandom tropes I haven’t written and how I might approach them if I wanted to. I’ve been thinking a lot, too, about how sex is handled in fanfic - as a fantasy most of the time, which is totally fine and valid, I do it, too - and when I got to thinking about how I’ve never written bad!sex this story just appeared in my head. Because sex is really kind of ridiculous when you think about what actually happens while one is having it, but even when it doesn’t go quite as planned it still can be great.

Kurt walks out of his bedroom, dressed in comfortable lounging clothes and toweling his hair dry one last time, to find Rachel no longer curled up on the couch watching a marathon of weepy movies but instead packing her dance bag with determined motions.

“I thought _Beaches_ was next?” he says in surprise. “I was just going to break out the emergency box of extra soft tissues.”

“I have decided to stop wallowing and focus my emotions the best way I know how: by honing my already impressive talent,” she replies and zips the bag shut. “I’m going to NYADA to work on my dance routine.”

“But I bought Ben & Jerry’s on the way home from yoga,” he says, disappointment settling over him. He’d really been looking forward to eating it.

“We can indulge ourselves later,” she tells him. She throws the bag over her shoulder and stalks toward the door. “Right now, it is time for me to focus on myself.”

“Well, that’s something new,” he mutters to himself as she slides closed the apartment door behind her. He turns the towel over in his hands. He’d moved his schedule around to have a moping movie marathon with her and Blaine, and now he got up for an early yoga class for nothing. His afternoon looms wide open.

At least it will be quiet for another hour or two until Santana gets home. He could do some of his vocal homework in peace.

“Ba-bay, I know you’re asking me to stay,” Blaine’s voice drifts out around the partially open bathroom door, “say please, please, please, don’t go away - “

Kurt’s mouth slowly curves into a delighted, knowing smile. It will be _quiet_ for another hour or two, just the two of them with no one to disturb them. His stride is loose and bouncy with more than just the after effects of all of his stretching this morning as he strolls into the bathroom.

“Before this river becomes an ocean,” Kurt picks up with Blaine, neatly hanging up his towel and watching his boyfriend in the mirror. Blaine grins at him and yet neither loses his place in the song nor cuts himself as he continues to shave. He’s wearing only a towel wrapped around his slim waist, thanks to the shower he took after Kurt’s, and his shoulders look strong and lovely from behind, his back flexing with each indrawn breath as they keep singing. He’s beautiful. And they’re alone.

Kurt’s smile grows as he sings a little louder.

“Do you need the mirror to do your hair?” Blaine asks when they finish the song together. He rinses the razor in the sink and goes back to remove another swath of shaving cream and stubble. “I’m almost done.”

“I _could_ do my hair,” Kurt says, looking coyly up at him from under his lashes. “But Rachel just went out.”

“You do your hair because Rachel’s here?”

Kurt just raises his eyebrows at him.

Blaine wipes at his face with a damp washcloth, getting rid of the residue of shaving, and looks at him in confusion in the mirror for a second. Then his eyes widen. “Really?” he asks. His hands drop to the edge of the sink.

“We’re alone,” Kurt says.

“Santana?” Blaine asks, his breath already speeding up.

Kurt starts to grin in anticipation. “Gone until two at least.”

“Kurt!”

Blaine spins around, and Kurt’s on him in the next second. They haven’t had much time together in over a week. Their classes have been busy, they’ve been so tired at night, and Santana has been watching them like a hawk during the day after she caught Kurt with his hand down the back of Blaine’s workout shorts the other morning before breakfast.

(Sue him. Blaine has a perfect ass, and Kurt doesn’t know why he should be forced to ignore it in common spaces when no one else is around to see, or no one was until she came in with her laundry and interrupted their kiss.)

They’re on fire before they even get their noses aligned properly. Kurt has his hands on Blaine’s beautifully bare chest, Blaine’s fingers are taut in Kurt’s damp hair, and their moans echo loudly in the small bathroom.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you,” Blaine says against his mouth before kissing him so hard it bruises Kurt’s lips against his teeth.

He doesn’t care about the pain. “I’ve missed you, too,” Kurt says, running his hands over Blaine’s skin. It’s so warm and soft in its post-shower glory and smooth against his palms. “One quick handjob the other morning was _not_ enough. It was great, but - ”

“I know. I know.” Blaine bites kisses against his mouth and moves lower toward his jaw and throat. “This morning all I wanted to do was drag you right back to bed. You know how I feel about you in yoga pants.”

“You know how I feel about you in a towel,” Kurt says and tugs at it, loosening it around Blaine’s waist and slipping a hand underneath to squeeze the muscular curve of his ass. His head spins as his blood surges away from his brain and toward his increasingly enthusiastic erection. “Or out of one.”

Blaine laughs, high and a little hysterical, and Kurt drops his head to Blaine’s throat, mouthing along the side. He gets his other hand on Blaine’s ass and groans against his skin. He tastes amazing, clean and fresh, smelling of shower gel and - 

“Yuck,” Kurt says, pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. It’s not enough; he leans around Blaine and turns on the tap. He scoops up a handful of water, spitting it out into the sink.

“What’s wrong?”

Kurt reaches for the washcloth Blaine had dropped on the edge of the sink and says with a grimace, “You missed some shaving cream.” He dabs away the bitter white foam on Blaine’s throat and then presses his mouth to the same spot. There’s nothing to taste there now but Blaine. “Oh, much better.”

“Sorry,” Blaine says, his hands at Kurt’s waist.

Kurt kisses the spot again, sucking a little harder and listening for that perfect catch in Blaine’s breath. “Don’t be sorry,” he replies. “Now, where was I?” He puts the cloth down again and says, “Oh, that’s right.”

Pulling free the towel around Blaine’s waist, he lets it fall to the ground. Blaine shivers, and Kurt knows it’s not from the cold.

“Kurt - “ Blaine starts, breathing hard like he’s boxing instead of just standing still in the bathroom.

“I want to touch every inch of you,” Kurt says, because there’s no point in not being honest about it, and watches Blaine’s eyes dilate even more.

Blaine huffs out a laugh and puts his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, his thumbs caressing them through the soft fabric of his shirt. “I know how you feel.”

“I’ve missed you,” Kurt tells him, and he sinks to his knees in front of him on the cold, tiled floor. He draws his hands down Blaine’s body from his chest down his stomach and hips all the way down his strong legs with their dusting of wiry hair to his bony ankles and back up again to his thighs. He’s perfect, all of him is perfect. Perfect to look at, perfect to touch, perfect to love.

And that’s what he’s going to do.

He presses his mouth to Blaine’s stomach and smiles as Blaine’s jaw falls open.

“ _God_ , I love you,” Blaine tells him, staring down at him in wonder, and Kurt just smiles, gets a hand on Blaine’s cock and another on his hip, and gets to work.

Blaine’s never all that quiet during sex, no matter how much he tries, and since they’re alone he’s more vocal than usual. He’s all groans and gasps and hoarse encouragement: “like that” and “your mouth, Kurt” and “there, there” and “ _please_.” The sounds are loud in the small room, loud in Kurt’s ears, and every happy one of them makes his heart pound and his erection swell in his (fortunately) stretchy pants. He doesn’t have to worry if Blaine is enjoying what he’s doing. He can tell.

“Yeah, Kurt. _Please_ ,” Blaine gasps as Kurt takes him as far as he can into his mouth, feels the stretch in his jaw and his lips, feels the heat of him on his tongue, feels dirty and absolutely right all at once, doing this with the man he loves.

He knows exactly what Blaine likes, which is lots of attention, lots of moisture, and lots of teasing, or at least more than Kurt enjoys on himself. Blaine likes it when Kurt pulls back, uses the tip of his tongue to trace his veins or licks lushly up his shaft but avoids the most sensitive spots. Kurt knows what _he_ likes, too, which is the feel of Blaine’s cock in his mouth, heavy and solid and thick, the musky Blaine scent of him, and the way Blaine’s voice goes deeper and hoarser the closer he gets to his orgasm. So he takes him in deep, pulls back and licks wetly around the head, sucks and swirls and teases, and then goes deep again, as deep as he can, to feel filled, to feel powerful, to feel like he alone holds the secrets to Blaine’s body and pleasure.

Blaine leans half-slumped against the porcelain curve of the sink, his hands tight on its edge, and his eyes are sharp on Kurt’s mouth as Kurt sucks and licks at him, sinking down over his shaft or stroking it with spit-slick fingers as he laves his balls with his tongue.

“God, oh god, oh Kurt, you’re perfect, you’re amazing, this is amazing, your mouth is amazing, oh god, oh _god_ ,” Blaine chants, his hips shifting restlessly as Kurt looks up at him and licks around the head once more before letting Blaine glide forward onto his tongue. “I can’t - you don’t even know how you - oh _god_.”

His hips are a little bit too restless, actually, and with the angle of being on his knees Kurt can’t control Blaine’s next thrust into his mouth. It isn’t really too deep, it’s fine and actually kind of hot to have him lose that control, but it surprises Kurt, and he loses his rhythm. Instead of swallowing the saliva flooding his mouth, he draws in an unconscious breath against the choking he isn’t in fact doing, and then he _is_ choking, pulling back and putting a hand on the floor as he coughs into his elbow. His throat burns and spasms with it.

“Kurt, oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry.” Blaine drops to his knees beside him, rubbing his back. “I’m so sorry. I should have been more careful.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt croaks at him. He wipes his watering eyes. “I just breathed when I should have swallowed. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Blaine asks, his hand still moving in soothing circles.

Kurt coughs a few more times and then nods. “Yes.” He folds his legs so that he can sit directly on the floor and winces a little. The tile is _hard_ , and his knees feel stiff and sore. He gives Blaine a wan smile. “Sorry,” he says. “That’s one way to kill the moment.”

“It’s not killed,” Blaine assures him, cupping Kurt’s cheek. “It’s just paused.”

“I’m not sure I can go back to - “

“That’s not what I meant.” Blaine rises to his feet and offers Kurt a hand. “Come on. I was about to lose the ability to stand up, anyway. And that sink is uncomfortable to lean against. Let’s go to bed.”

Kurt lets Blaine help him up and leans in to give him a deep kiss, full of eager tongues and lusty promise. “That sounds perfect.”

Blaine has Kurt’s shirt off before they even reach their bedroom, though they nearly bump into the couch in the process, and he tumbles Kurt onto the mattress without hesitation, surging over him and kissing his already bruised mouth again and again and again until Kurt’s forgotten his knees and his cough and is arching up into him in need.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Blaine tells him, his eyes dark and sparkling with desire, and he slides off the bed, taking hold of the waistband of Kurt’s pants and sliding them down his legs. They’re clingy lounge pants, so the elastic waist catches on Kurt’s erection a bit too long before it springs free, and the leg of his underwear doesn’t quite make it over his heel and requires him to kick it off, but then he’s naked, and Blaine’s naked, and it doesn’t matter that getting there wasn’t the stuff of movies.

Blaine crawls back on top of him, and Kurt cradles him between his legs and smiles up at him, petting his fingers through Blaine’s unruly post-shower hair for a moment.

“I really love you,” he says, and Blaine’s answering smile is as bright as the sun.

“I love you, too, Kurt,” Blaine replies and sucks a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of his throat. “And god, I’ve missed your body.”

Kurt scratches at the fine hair at the nape of Blaine’s neck, shivering a little. “You sleep with me every night. Or isn’t that you holding me?”

Blaine hitches one of Kurt’s legs up to wrap around his hip. “Not like this.” He rocks forward, their erections pressing along each other. It makes Kurt’s head spin and his pulse race, the strength in Blaine, the maleness of his body, the sweetness of his heart.

“Then let’s do it just like this,” Kurt tells him.

It takes a little while for them to get there, because kissing is so amazing, and when Kurt gets his hands on Blaine’s ass again it feels too good for them both not to grind against each other, rough and fast and a little uncomfortable from the tackiness of their skin but so _good_. It’s not elegant; it’s just them, needing each other, wanting each other, enjoying each other and how wonderful it feels to be close. Their kisses get more uncoordinated, their focus instead on the friction of their hips, on the flexing muscles of their asses and backs, on the way their cocks drag against each other, the heads bumping, the shafts so perfectly hard and hot when they rub together.

“You are so hot,” Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s jaw. He pulls Kurt’s leg up more, thrusting against his abdomen and moving lower, the head of his cock nudging Kurt’s balls and drawing out a primal, fiery need in Kurt that starts not in his heart but in his belly. “Kurt, you’re so hot. You feel so amazing. Your skin. Your everything.”

“Then fuck me,” Kurt tells him and lets his legs drop open wider as his head falls back against the pillow in desperation. He knows where he wants Blaine’s cock, and it’s not there against his. It’s inside him. It’s not something he always wants, but today he’s itching for him. Blaine smells so good, all salty and clean. He _feels_ so good, all muscular and warm and just heavy enough on top of him. Kurt _wants_ him. He wants to have him. He wants to let go and have him. “Come on.”

Blaine makes a choked-off noise, and he freezes, panting against Kurt’s chest.

“Do you not want - “

“No,” Blaine says sharply. “No, I do. I really do. Sorry. I want it so much I almost lost it right there. Sorry.” He lifts his head and gives Kurt a sheepish, sultry smile. “I can’t help it. You do that to me sometimes, just being near you.”

Kurt laughs and brushes Blaine’s damp curls off of his forehead. “It’s one of my crosses to bear,” he teases, though he’s actually a little flustered by the praise, because even after this long with Blaine it’s hard to think of himself as that innately attractive.

“And mine.” Blaine presses his smiling mouth to Kurt’s and rolls away to rustle around in the nightstand drawer.

Kurt slides around on the bed to a more comfortable angle where his feet aren’t hanging over the edge and he actually has a pillow under his head, and by the time he’s kicked the covers down out of the way, Blaine’s back beside him. He greets Blaine with a kiss, and that one turns into another and into a hundred until they’re both panting again and Blaine’s blindly searching around on the bed for the little bottle he apparently dropped at some point.

“Find it,” Kurt begs, because his erection is throbbing and his stomach is twisting with the need for them to get closer, and as much as he wants Blaine in his arms it’s way better for Blaine to stop touching him and find the goddamn lube.

Blaine tosses the extra pillows off the bed, nearly knocking over the lamp, and exclaims, “Ha!” He holds up the lube in victory.

“My hero,” Kurt says with a laugh, and he sacrifices the pillow under his head to shove it under his hips, because he doesn’t want Blaine to go away again.

He closes his eyes as Blaine leans in, his warm breath fanning over Kurt’s stomach, and Kurt’s muscles tense in anticipation. He gasps as Blaine’s tongue laps at the head of his erection, the warm, wet touch a delightful, terrible, amazing surprise, and as his hips lift of their own volition to chase the touch there’s a little click and a sudden cascade of cool liquid over his balls and thighs, trickling down to his ass.

Blaine cries out in wordless dismay, and Kurt blinks open his eyes again to see him staring down at the bed. There’s lube _everywhere_. On him, under him, everywhere. “I’ll do the laundry,” Blaine tells him, his eyes wide and pleading. “I promise.”

“Later,” Kurt says with a sigh, because it’s not like things aren’t going to get messy, anyway.

Blaine kisses Kurt’s raised knee and agrees, “Later.”

The lube is slippery and drippy, not altogether pleasant, but Blaine touching him more than makes up for it, slicking up his erection and down over his balls in a wet caress, his fingers sliding along his crack and back up again. It’s different and messy, but it’s not bad, really, just extra slick everywhere and a bit of a puddle under his ass.

But then Blaine’s pushing in two fingers into him, and it really doesn’t matter. The lube even helps, because Blaine’s a little faster and more eager than usual. They don’t do it this way as often as with Blaine bottoming, and honestly they don’t have the time to do this much at all, and Kurt’s a little too tight for two fingers right away, but it’s okay. It stretches and burns, but it’s okay. It’s what he wants.

“Wow,” Blaine breathes against Kurt’s knee, watching his fingers, and Kurt relaxes and exhales and watches _him_ , watches the way his shoulder flexes with the motion of his hand, watches the dark arousal in his eyes, watches the sweat beading on his temple, and thinks, too in love and too needy to make any sense, _Anything. Everything._

“I’m ready,” he says, knowing that his body will get used to it even if it isn’t stretched enough. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. “I’m ready for you.”

Blaine doesn’t argue, just pours out more lube in his hand and gets it on his cock with a lewd, almost pornographic motion - Kurt’s not sure he’ll _ever_ get used to the sight of Blaine touching himself, god, he could come from just that, the contrast of the golden skin of his hand and his blood-flushed cock, the sure, steady movement of his fingers, the way his erection juts out proud from his body and the head peeks out from the channel of his fist, the unconscious sway of his back and thrust of his hips at the touch - and Kurt reaches for him, pulls at his arms and lifts his own hips on the pillow.

Blaine shuffles in between his legs and guides his cock to Kurt’s ass. It slides there a little, skims over his skin and the lube coating it, rubs up his crack and nudges his balls, back and forth like it’s lost, but finally, just as Kurt’s about to laugh, it finds its way home, pushing slowly and surely into him, feeling impossibly thick at first but in the best way, like it’s changing him, stealing his breath, reshaping him entirely in the burning stretch of discomfort Kurt knows means pleasure is soon to follow.

“I - Oh - ” Blaine says. He presses in more, up into Kurt’s heart, into his throat, all the way in until Kurt feels like a butterfly pinned on a card, utterly caught.

Kurt flexes around him, feels the solidity of him, feels his body want to object to the fullness and yet also want even more, and _loves_ it.

“I want to do this more often,” Kurt whispers, though he know he won’t feel this way in the morning when he’s too busy for more than Blaine’s mouth on him or tomorrow night when Blaine bends over to get something and Kurt has to bite back the untimely urge to push him onto the couch and fuck him right there. But he loves this, too, he loves having to give up some of the control, having to let Blaine in. He loves this, too.

“I love you,” Blaine replies fervently, rocking a little. “I love you so much.” He leans forward over him and then back up to his knees, drawing Kurt’s hips more into his lap.

Kurt arches his back and lets Blaine push his legs apart, holding them out to the sides with steady hands behind his knees. Kurt breathes into it, breathes and stretches and lets himself feel it all. He can feel his erection softening, but it doesn’t matter, because the rest of him is on _fire_.

“Oh, god,” Blaine says, soft and reverent, and then begins to move. He fucks into him gently but steadily, watching his dick disappear into Kurt’s ass and using Kurt’s legs as leverage to keep himself upright. He grunts with each breath, each jerk of his hips, and the sound goes straight to Kurt’s gut like more fuel on the flames that are already consuming him.

It feels incredible, the stretch inside and out. The glide has just enough of a burn to make Kurt’s hair stand on end. He has to steady them both, and he braces his hands on the headboard and feels the tension in his body from his shoulders to his abdomen to his thighs, actively letting himself be fucked, working with him, letting Blaine give this to him, letting Blaine take pleasure from him.

“Oh, I love you,” Kurt breathes out, gratitude and desperation all at once at the increasing speed of Blaine’s thrusts, the way his cock slips and drags in and out, the way Blaine’s _looking_ at him like he’s something holy and wonderful and amazingly hot.

Blaine pushes his legs up and out further, exposing him that much more, and Kurt wants to close his eyes from the pleasure of it, only the angle makes something twinge in his hip, a deep, dark flare of pain, and he has to say, “Blaine.” He pushes back against Blaine’s hands.

Blaine looks up at him, breathing hard through his mouth, his eyes barely focused. “Slower?”

“No, it’s my hip. The angle is uncomfortable.”

“Sorry,” Blaine says, letting Kurt’s legs drop down around his waist with a sad sound he can’t quite disguise. “I got carried away, sorry, you just feel - “

“It’s okay.” Kurt rocks down on him to prove it, making them both shudder. “I pulled something in yoga.”

“Okay.” Blaine strokes his palm over Kurt’s hip - the wrong one, it doesn’t matter, it’s still soothing and sweet - and leans over him, bending him up so that he can kiss him. “Is this better?”

Stretching a little to test his muscles, Kurt nods. He’s pliable, loose, and maybe a little sore from the exercise this morning, but this way he doesn’t feel the sharp ache. “Much.”

“Just tell me if I’m hurt you again.”

Kurt replies by throwing his arms around Blaine’s back and planting his feet on the mattress so that he can fuck himself onto Blaine’s cock, and Blaine just laughs against his mouth and starts moving again. It’s quick to turn fast, both of them frantic with need now that Kurt can really move with him, and Kurt can feel his orgasm building with each glide of his erection against Blaine’s stomach. It’s good. It’s so good, so fierce and close, and he wants Blaine so much, wants this, wants it all. He doesn’t quite know if he can reach it, but he’s happy to get lost in it and try, lost in the power of Blaine’s body in him and on him, lost in the pleasure of his own.

But when Kurt’s moans get to a fevered pitch, Blaine slows down the way he always does, taking longer strokes to tease them both, pulling out more each time, long and slow and decadent, drawing groans from them both, making Kurt’s skin light up with a crackling heat, his whole body focused on Blaine’s mouth on his and Blaine’s cock filling him and pulling back like a wave of pleasure, making him feel drunk and dizzy and -

Kurt’s suddenly empty, his body desperately clenching around nothing as Blaine slips out entirely.

“Damn it,” Blaine says, thrusting against him, trying to press back inside.

“It’s okay, it’s fine, come here,” Kurt tells him, but Blaine’s cock just slides against him, the excess lube making weird squelching sounds and the velvety head of his cock dancing over but not staying at his entrance. “ _Blaine_.”

“I’m almost - “ Blaine flinches as his cock slips away again, and they both moan in despair. “ _Sorry_.”

“Do you need me to - ?”

“I’ll do it.” Blaine reaches down and guides himself, and it still takes a few times before he’s inside again, perfect and thick and hot, inside where he belongs.

Kurt moans louder than he intends at the sensation of Blaine pushing back in, and Blaine sucks at his throat, hard enough to hurt, as his hips start to snap, not quite rhythmic but desperate enough that Kurt is more turned on by the emotion than even the sensation itself. Blaine _wants_ him that badly that he can’t help himself, just wants to press him down and lose himself in Kurt. It’s a heady rush of passion that Kurt can barely process.

“I love you,” Kurt tells him, clutching at his wonderful shoulders, closing his eyes, and memorizing every inch of him that’s touching him, every groan, every caress, every movement. Blaine feels so strong and powerful on him, so full of need. He leans up to kiss him, teeth clashing as they meet.

“I love you, too.” Blaine fucks him harder, leaning close over him and bending him almost double. His breath is hot and moist against Kurt’s face, making Kurt turn away so he can find fresh air of his own. “Can you come like this? I want you to come like this.”

Kurt listens to his body, feels the need in his veins and the distance between it and that bright spark he’s chasing. It’s too far. There’s not enough room between them to get his hand on his throbbing erection, and as good as this feels he just doesn’t think he can get there without being touched. He wants to come, but he needs to be _touched_. He just doesn’t want to have to move at all, not when he’d have to give up the almost claustrophobic knot of their bodies working together. “I don’t think so, but don’t stop. Please, Blaine, don’t stop.”

Blaine blinks at him. “You’re sure?”

“I can’t,” Kurt says, curling his hands around Blaine’s back and flexing up against him. “But don’t stop. I want you just like this.”

“Kurt, Kurt, I’m so close, I can’t - ” Blaine gasps against his throat, his damp hair tickling Kurt’s chin, and Kurt gets a hand up to keep his head from getting bashed against the headboard and just tries to keep up with him.

It’s only a matter of moments before Blaine is choking on his own breath and curling over him, trembling and shuddering through his release. He’s loud, the last few snaps of his hips powerful and deep and so good Kurt can feel them in his throat, and Kurt shakes with his own need as he pets Blaine’s back and waits. He’s close, too, but not close enough, and he grits his teeth against his arousal, drops his legs from around Blaine’s hips back to the bed, and soothes his boyfriend with a full heart.

“I haven’t forgotten you,” Blaine mumbles after a moment.

“I know. It’s okay,” Kurt replies, and it is. He can wait. He’s still so turned on, but he can wait.

Blaine kisses his throat and down his chest before he pulls out. There’s no warning, just a sudden slippery emptiness where they used to be joined, and it makes Kurt feel uneasy, like he is on a swooping roller coaster and just left his stomach behind. He isn’t ready for it, and he doesn’t like the sensation.

But then Blaine gets a hand - maybe a little dry now that the lube has gone tacky, but Kurt isn’t going to complain about it - around his cock and strokes him fast and hard, his thumb rubbing over that spot beneath the head that drives him absolutely wild. “Now it’s your turn,“ he says, his eyes dark on Kurt’s face.

He doesn’t tease at all, just gives Kurt exactly what he needs, a tight grip and nowhere to hide, and it only takes a minute or two before Kurt’s jerking on the bed, grinding his hips up again and again and crying out as he comes in spurts over Blaine’s fist and his own stomach.

The world goes hazy and dim, everything beautiful and blissfully calm, and Kurt drifts in the euphoria... at least until the aftershocks die down and Kurt becomes aware of exactly what he’s lying on.

He tugs the lube-covered pillow out from beneath himself and drops it over the side of the bed. “I’m going to need a new pillow,” he groans and flops back to the mattress, boneless and relaxed as his tired muscles give out once more.

Laughing a little, Blaine rubs his hand on the sheets and rests his head on Kurt’s heaving chest. It’s a touch too heavy, sweaty, and hard to breathe with Blaine on top of him, but Kurt doesn’t mind. He just gets an arm over Blaine’s shoulders and waits for the room to stop spinning. He’s pretty sure it’s going to take a while.

“That was incredible,” Blaine tells him, kissing Kurt’s breastbone. He makes a soft noise - this time in discomfort - and gets his arm into a better position.

Kurt shifts a touch, feels an unpleasant wet trickle between his sore thighs, and rolls his neck where it’s pressed at an odd angle against the headboard. He moves his leg away from where Blaine’s bony knee is digging into it. He feels stretched and sticky, a little uncomfortable, and is reminded why they really don’t do this all that often.

Then he breathes out, smiles at the top of Blaine’s curly head, and says with complete and utter contentment, “It was perfect.” He trails his fingers up Blaine’s arm and feels his heart expand even more at being so close to him. He feels achy and worn out and thoroughly _loved_.

Blaine kisses his chest again and hums happily to himself. “Yeah,” he agrees, tenderly stroking Kurt’s waist. “Absolutely perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free! Please do not tell me anything about what's coming ahead in the show!


End file.
